Guatemala's Hetalia Academy Story
by RoseMatoBird
Summary: As seen on 67OtakuGirl24X3. Guatemala was a regular old teenage country, who just happened to enroll in the infamous Hetalia Academy. Now she's caught up with strange but loyal roommates, a busy class schedule, and more boys than she prefers... What's a country to do? Contains OCs and crack pairings/events. Jamaica belongs to a friend of ours. Corresponds with Hawaii's HA Story.
1. Chapter 1

_Screech. _A red low rider car drove across a long, graveled driveway, coming to a halt at a sort of parking lot (it was more of a drop-off area). A brown haired, green eyed Spaniard man turned off the ignition. He opened his door simultaneous to the girl in the passenger seat doing the same. She quickly stepped onto the rocky drive, careful not to catch the hem of her floral patterned dress on the car step. She gazed up at the grand school in front of her, drawing in an awestruck gasp. If she took the 10 largest buildings in her entire country and mashed them together, they still wouldn't be as large as this.

"Here you go, mi chica," the Spaniard crooned, heaving one of the girl's suitcases out of the trunk of the car. The girl rolled her eyes with a timid grin as she removed the rest of her baggage.

"'Mi chica'? I'm 16, Papa, you can stop talking to me like I'm a little girl," she sighed. She narrowed her cocoa brown eyes as Spain wrapped his arms around her, using one hand to stroke the top of her long, jet black hair.

"Aw, but you'll ALWAYS be my little girl!" he squealed. Smiling slightly, the tan girl slipped out of his grasp and retrieved her bags. A gentle grin appeared on Spain's face. "You remember what that boy I told you about looks like, right? You know, Romano, South Italy, Lovino…"

"Si, si, I know exactly who you're talking about… I'm not dating that jackass, Papa."

Spain shrugged. "A man can dream. But, if you feel that way, then stay away from boys! They're nothing but trouble."

"We'll see, Papa." The girl smirked teasingly.

"I mean it!" Spain insisted with a laugh. "Now, put schoolwork first…"

"Si, Papa."

"Be respectful of your teachers…"

"Of course, Papa."

"Make friends, but approach others with caution."

The girl chuckled. "Adios, Papa."

"Oh, and did you pack extra underwear?"

The pleasant smile slipped off the girl's mouth, and her face burned abruptly red. "Go home, Papa!" she shrieked.

"Okay, okay…" All joking faded out of Spain's face, and he kissed the girl on the forehead. "Make me proud, si?"

She nodded, giving the country she thought of as a dad a tight hug. "Si. I'll try." She set down one of her bags so she could wave to Spain as he climbed into the car, shouting last minute reminders and "good luck"s to her with tears in his emerald colored eyes. He was soon out of view, leaving the girl free to turn back to her bags.

"Need help with that?" The girl shrieked, slapping a pocket in her dress for a weapon that she didn't have on her. Immediately, she loosened up, seeing as she hadn't been approached by anyone threatening. This new, widely grinning girl looked to be in her later teens. She was relatively tan, although compared to the other girl she looked pale. A lovely hibiscus flower was situated on the right side of her shoulder-length, slightly thick brown hair which was the same color as her bright eyes. A long, thin scar was on her right cheek, though it didn't seem to be paining her. She wore a blue spaghetti strapped shirt with a matching floral sarong, and a pair of silver flip-flops.

What a strange person.

"Er, no, I'm fine… …Okay, maybe you could grab one, por favor," the other girl muttered. Flashing her a quick salute, the new arrival picked up one of the medium sized suitcases.

"We might as well get introductions out of the way immediately. I'm Hawaii, a nation off the west coast of America. I'm a state, technically, but I'm also an island…" She shook her head, brightening her smile even more (if possible). "So who are you?"

"I'm Guatemala…" the other girl murmured, feeling as if the life had been sucked out of her. Hawaii chuckled lightly, softening her expression.

"Sorry, I… Sorry. I can be sane when I want, I'm just super excited to meet someone new, y'know? So, anyway, we should head inside, si?" She nodded toward the colossal double doors. Guatemala tilted her head.

"You speak a bit of Spanish?"

Hawaii giggled. "You could say that. I also know- Okay, not important! Come on, I'll show you to the dorms."

The inside of the building was even more impressive than the out. It wasn't the architecture that caught Guatemala's immediate attention, though: it was the students. This place was truly a melting pot of cultures. There were people so pale that they could be vampires, to people so dark they were almost literally the color black; there were tall, short, and regular heighted people; there were people in bland, official clothing, and people in exotic, almost mismatched ensembles. That was only the beginning of it, too.

"Here we are, the dorms!" Hawaii sang after dragging Guatemala down many halls and passageways. They had climbed a spiral staircase up into what looked like a living room, with a fireplace in one wall and a sofa in the middle. It led to walls covered in doorways, all of them with flags plastered on them. Hawaii led her to a door with three flags on it: one with horizontal red, white, and blue stripes with a British flag in the top left corner; a flag with a yellow X over 2 green triangles going vertically and 2 black triangles going horizontally; an all-too-familiar flag with sky blue, vertical rectangles on either side of a white rectangle with a seal displaying a scroll and a Resplendent Quetzal in the middle.

"This is where we'll be sleeping!" Hawaii exclaimed. "Our roomie should be in here…" Sure enough, when she swung open the door, there was a girl already in there. She lay upside-down on her bed, which had sheets, covers, and pillow cases all some shade of purple. Her dark skin made Guatemala second guess calling herself tan. This girl's short black hair hung toward the ground, worn in some sort of dreadlocks that looked more like multiple very thin braids. Her dark brown eyes were closed, and her foot, propped up against the wall, tapped in time with the exotic music playing on her iPod. Hawaii kneeled down and plucked the headphone bud out of her ear. "C'mon Jamaica, we've got company!"

Stretching, the dark skinned girl- Jamaica- clicked off her music device and sat upright with a yawn. "Hey there. You're, uh…?"

"Guatemala."

"Guatemala, you're Guatemala. I'm Jamaica, as this maniac," she shook her hand at Hawaii, "said already. And she calls ME the crackhead…" She chuckled under her breath. _Oh, lord… These are the people I have to share a room with until I graduate in 5 years? _Guatemala thought dreadfully, tightening her grip on her suitcase.

Hawaii clapped her hands together twice. "Okay, you two have met and everything… Guatemala, hun, you can put your stuff away later, for now, I've got to show you around!" Without waiting for a reply, Hawaii grabbed Guatemala by the wrist and trotted out of the room. Smiling airily, Jamaica clicked her iPod on to some form of metal music.

The entire way down the halls, Hawaii chatted away eagerly. So much for being sane… "There's a _beautiful _garden here, you'll love it I'm sure, the rest of the building is really pretty too, I hope you're good with directions 'cause otherwise you'll get lost," she was explaining. "So China is really super cute, he's gonna marry me one day and we're gonna have 20 adorable little babies, well I mean I've never spoken with him but I foresee it happening… Stay away from this tall purple-eyed guy named Russia, Jamaica has dibs on him, not that I think you'd want him anyway, he's WOOHOO if you know what I mean… France is a total pervert even though he's so good looking, don' fall for him!" France… Guatemala knew him- he was close friends with Papa Spain! Funny how countries' ages worked out so that Spain was just barely too old to be a student, yet perfectly old enough to be considered a father…

Guatemala zoned back in on Hawaii's speech only half-heartedly, her eyes closed. "England is totally cute but kinda creepy, Switzerland is wicked adorable I think I'll ask him out…" Hawaii drew in a deep breath. "Hey, that's him! I GOTTA go talk to him!" Guatemala blinked open her eyes, for Hawaii had finally stopped talking. However, she felt anything but relief when she saw that her new companion was nowhere to be seen.

This particular corridor seemed quite abandoned, except for one boy leaning against a partially opened window. The very sight of him would make anyone, who hadn't been through all the rough situations that Guatemala had, flinch. He had a large build, brown hairs zig-zagging up his muscular, dark tan forearm. His dark brown dreadlocks were pulled into a high ponytail, his brown eyes seemed to be calmly staring at nothing, and he had a cigar pressed to his lips. He wore denim shorts, flip-flops, and an open red shirt covered with yellow flowers. "Hola," Guatemala called to him, making her way over. Instead of a brave face, she decided it best to look more nonchalant.

The boy flicked some of his cigar ashes out the window, smirking very slightly as they landed in the hair of an American. "Hola." His voice was a bit deep, fitting with his appearance.

"Si, hola. I'm new here, and I sort of misplaced the girl that was showing me around… Have you seen her? Scar on her cheek, pretty red flower in her hair, low cut shirt…" Guatemala wondered why she didn't sound as casual as she was intending.

"Misplaced, huh?" the boy chuckled. "Yeah, I saw her run by. She went that way." He nodded to his left. However, Guatemala wasn't particularly eager to find her at this point…

"Gracias. Er, if you're not busy… May I?" She motioned at the windowsill in which the boy sat. Smiling, he scooted over, although he needn't make room with Guatemala's slight build.

"Be my guest." Nodding, Guatemala delicately sat herself beside him. "I'm Cuba, by the way."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Guatemala." She put her hand out for Cuba to shake it, chuckling when she saw how his hand seemed to swallow hers whole.

"So, a little friendly advice for a newbie like you: stay away from Americans. They're pathetic excuses for people… They're always picking on the new kids and acting like they own the place," Cuba advised.

"Mm, I've heard they're really obnoxious… I-"

"Guatemala! Hey, sorry I ran off like that, turns out that wasn't even Switzerland, but whoever it was seemed really nice until they started to walk away…" Hawaii smiled apologetically, grabbing her friend by the arm and gently yanking her to her feet. She obviously didn't see the poison in Guatemala's stare as she said, "Come on, I've gotta finish showing you around." She waved at Cuba before continuing on her way.

"What was going on there? Were sparks a'flying?" she questioned as they strode outside.

"I dunno, we had just started talking," Guatemala muttered bitterly. Hawaii furrowed her eyebrows together.

"Oh, crap, I'm sorry… But, well, I might as well finish what I was saying before I got, ah, sidetracked. Mr. Austria is such a stiff but I LOVE his class, his wife Mrs. Hungary is awesome… Oh, and America's really cool and cute, he's like a big brother to me, I'm sure he'll be your friend… Well speak of the devil!" She skidded to a stop outside in a courtyard, where students of all sorts were walking around, hanging out casually, or studying.

A dirty blonde teen wearing a brown bomber jacket and glasses on the rim of his nose sat strumming a cheap electric guitar with his back pressed against a tree, a crowd of cool-looking guys and girls sitting around him. "AMERICA!" Hawaii called over to him. The boy in question glanced up, grinning when he saw the girl he treated like a little sister. He stood and trotted over to her.

"Sup Hawaii!" His smile faded when he caught sight of Guatemala, then returned ten times bigger when he turned his gaze to her. He started strumming stupidly on his guitar and sang: "_Hawaii, look what I see! It's a newbie, what's her name?"_

Giggling for a moment, Hawaii tilted her head thoughtfully. "I know she represents Guatemala, but I don't believe I learned her human name." She looked at Guatemala.

"My name is Silvia del Rosario Castro," she answered certainly. After an awkward pause, she said, "…I'm Silvia."

America laughed obnoxiously. "You Mexicans always have such long names…" Guatemala froze. She could endure a _lot _of things… But being called a Mexican was _the one _thing that, for whatever reason, made her snap.

"Do you have mush for brains, or are you just deaf? I'm Guatemala, not a fricking MEXICAN!" she growled. America giggled.

"Sorry… Little Mexican." You have to admit, he was just asking for it. Blood boiling to the point that her face actually turned red, Guatemala balled up her fist and smashed it right against America's face. Guatemala was a perfect example of the phrase "looks can be deceiving." Despite her frail build and girlish appearance, she probably had the strength of 5 men.

"Damn, girl… You're _feisty,_" America groaned, rubbing his now aching nose and poking at his glasses to see if they were broken. They held together… barely.

"Lo siento, you just… It really, _really _pisses me off when people think I'm a Mexican," Guatemala muttered, staring at the ground.

"Just like how I hate it when people call me Asian!" Hawaii remarked. Guatemala stared at her skeptically.

"What? Hawaii, you don't look Asian at all." Hawaii beamed, now liking this new companion a lot more.

Guatemala turned back to America, narrowing her eyes dangerously. It actually made him flinch a bit. "And I guess I was compelled to react like that because I was told I should stay away from you."

This simply made America grin. "What? Who told you that BS?"

Ignoring the fact that she didn't know what BS stood for, Guatemala decided to answer honestly: "Cuba." America laughed again- apparently it sounded just as annoying every time he made the sound.

"Aw, that guy hates my guts for like, no reason dude! And he's not exactly a big friendly teddy bear, if you know what I mean."

"He seemed nice enough to me…" Guatemala muttered, a very slight amount of pink tinting her cheeks as she thought about her new friend.

"You know what seems nice to _me? _You," he slowly reached out toward her, "saying yes," he ran a gloved finger across her tan cheek, "to going on a date," he halted at her chin then cupped it with that finger and his thumb, "with me."

Guatemala stared at him in shock. He was kidding, right? He had to be kidding… Dear god, he wasn't kidding. She forcefully smacked his hand away, taking a few steps back. "I wasn't planning on listening to Papa Spain when he told me to stay away from boys. But if they only guys that end up asking me out are like you… Well, I'll gladly stay single forever, muchas gracias." She flipped her long black hair dramatically, storming back into the building.

America gazed after her back, grinning goofily. His eyes drifted down to Hawaii, whose jaw was hanging slightly agape. "I _like _that girl."


	2. Chapter 2

"Don't you think that was a little… Harsh? What you did to America?" Hawaii suggested as they sat down at the dining hall that evening. Guatemala sighed, swirling the spoon around in her stew. The fact that the meal reminded her so strongly of home was bittersweet.

"I guess, si… I just… I'm a prideful person, you know? I don't want to be confused for anything or anyone that I'm not, and my people are_always _getting mixed up with Mexicans…"

Hawaii nodded slowly, chewing on a slice of pineapple. "Yeah, I get what you're saying… But, I don't think that was all it was behind it. You wouldn't have punched _everyone _that called you a Mexican, would you?"

Guatemala started to retort, but then realized her friend was right. "No, I don't suppose I would… I'd curse them out, but I don't think I'd punch them… That hard, at least." Hawaii giggled slightly. Guatemala took a bite of her stew, smiling at its deliciousness, before she decided she wasn't done talking. "Cuba said that Americans take advantage of newbies… So, I sort of figured it'd be hard to make putty out someone who punched you in the face." She paused, and since Hawaii was chewing, she thought she'd add one more thing. "Maybe Cuba was just making that up based off of some grudge, I don't know, but he seemed to mean it…"

Hawaii swallowed her food. "Oh, yeah, he meant it. He's got every right to hold a grudge, America's what we call the asshole of the world… He can be really lovable, though, if you get past his obnoxiousness… He's a sweet guy, really. His people are more manipulative than he is… He's too dumb to be manipulative. And you know," she shook a chopstick at Guatemala, "he really sees something in you. This is his second year here, and he's only had 3 girlfriends. He'll tease girls, and flirt them up, but he only asks out the ones he's really sincere about."

Guatemala rolled her eyes, yet couldn't help but blush slightly. Unable to form a response, she simply ate a few more spoonfuls of her stew. It was like bliss for her taste buds every time.

"I still think there's something else behind why you punched him," Hawaii indicated while taking a sip of her tropical smoothie. "When he taunted you, did you feel like… Like there was some vicious fire creature storming around inside of you?" Hawaii made rapid motions with her hands to help prove her point.

_Wow, that's exactly it… _Guatemala stared at her incredulously. "Si… Like my insides were being clawed by flames."

Hawaii smacked her palms together, smirking slightly. "Guatemala, you've got a reluctant crush on him."

The tanner girl choked on air. "¿Qué"

"You've never been in a romantic relationship before, right? And you're not willing to start now?" Guatemala glared to the side, nodding. Either she was too easy to read, or Hawaii was some type of expert at this stuff. She hoped it was the latter. Hawaii was absolutely beaming now, her hands gripping the table excitedly. "That's it, then! He was messing with you. Your new friend told you bitter things about him. So, the fact that he made you feel fluttery inside set off this chain effect of emotions similar to hatred!"

It was silent for a moment, Hawaii's enthusiastic reasoning still lingering in the air like steam. Guatemala poked at her stew and felt her cheeks turn pink. "Well, there's no point denying that those American dickheads _are _pretty cute…" Hawaii giggled successfully and returned to her dinner.

"Hey, you said that this was America's second year here. I never asked, how long have _you _been here?" Guatemala inquired, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. Hawaii held up her index finger.

"This is year 1 for me, too! Same for Jamaica."

Guatemala's jaw dropped slightly. "But- How could you know all that you do about this place if you just started this year?" she asked skeptically. Hawaii winked.

"A girl can learn a lot in a month and a half."

Jamaica then joined them at the table. There wasn't that much food piled on her tray, but she had been the last person to arrive in the lunch room thus she had to wait at the very end of the line. "Where's Captain America?" she questioned casually, plopping down beside Hawaii.

"He's at that table over there today… 'The Hero' probably didn't have enough guts to sit by Guatemala, not just yet. He's probably admiring her from afar…" Sure enough, when she looked across the aisle, America's eyes were flickering away from Guatemala's face. Guatemala raised an eyebrow, turning away from him.

"Ah, that's right, I hear you gave him a face full of fist…" Jamaica smirked appreciatively at Guatemala, giving her a nonchalant thumbs-up. "Good job, mon." Guatemala offered a smile, though it was short lived as she caught sight of what Jamaica was bringing to her lips.

"Jamaica, is that… Rum?" she asked.

Smiling, Jamaica held up her glass and shook it slightly from side to side. "You bet it is. Want some?"

Guatemala wrinkled up her nose. "_No. _We're in school, how could you even think about getting high?"

"Oh, I'm not getting high. It's not getting high if you only have a glass twice a week," Jamaica assured her, raising an eyebrow and taking a long sip. "You a drinker?"

"Well, actually… Si. Not heavy, but… I love a few beers or something like a margarita every month," she answered. Grinning wider, Jamaica patted her hard on the back.

"Then _we _have got to meet up at the bar sometime. There's one in this school, ya know."

"_What?_" That didn't seem like something a school would have inside of it, even if many of the students were adults or practically immortal countries…

Jamaica tilted her glass a bit. "True story. Bottoms up!" She leaned her head way back, and drained every last drop of the reddish brown liquid.

After all three girls had eaten their fill, they headed upstairs to the dormitories. It was quite a journey, considering Jamaica was staggering slightly as she hummed some relatively catchy rhythm, and Guatemala was trying her best to avoid America's eye. At one point, she had been glancing over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't following her, and she ended up bumping into someone. "Oh, lo siento!" she squeaked, for this person was about 3 times her size. However, she saw with relief, it was just Cuba. He smiled down at her.

"Not a problem. Are you headed up to bed?"

Guatemala nodded. "Si."

"Well, buenas noches."

"Gracias, same to you." She bowed her head slightly and trotted up the staircase. She didn't notice Cuba's pleasant gaze lingering on her.

The trio of roommates managed to make it to their dorm without running into any unwanted situations. Jamaica was out like a light the moment she sprawled out on her bed, and she began snoring lightly. Guatemala rolled her eyes with a smile and started unpacking.

"Here, let me help you," Hawaii offered, draping Guatemala's baby blue blanket over the end of her bed, which was in the rightmost corner of the room. "You know, it's only 7… Lights out isn't until 10:30," she noted. Guatemala shrugged as she situated her bland yet special pillow on the bed.

"I suppose we could walk around for a while, or, something…" Opening the top drawer of her empty dresser, she yawned. Hawaii chuckled.

"You don't _have _to stay up… I get it if you wanna turn in early, it must have been a long day for you. Besides: early to bed, early to rise! If you get up early tomorrow, we'll have the entire Saturday to explore," she reasoned. Guatemala nodded, just now realizing how tired she actually was. A thought suddenly crossed her mind.

"Today's a weekday, isn't it? I didn't see anyone heading to any sort of class…"

"Ah, that's because we had off today! Staff meetings or something…" Hawaii unzipped a suitcase filled with colorful, neatly folded outfits and began carefully organizing them in one of Guatemala's drawers. Guatemala hated it when people touched her things, but it seemed Hawaii was handling them orderly… Maybe this girl wasn't so bad after all.

"I guess that's everything, then… Buenas noches," Guatemala breathed once all her baggage was empty. Hawaii nodded, freely stripping out of her clothes and searching for pajamas. Guatemala wasn't exactly timid about that type of thing, seeing as she'd known of citizens in her country that couldn't afford any clothing, so she slipped her dress off too and pulled on her nightgown.

"Good night!" Hawaii chimed, hopping onto her colorful bed with only one arm pulled into her pajama top so far. Guatemala curled up on her bed, watching the volcano-shaped lava lamp on Hawaii's bedside table with mild interest. Her eyes stayed glued on the lazily moving bubbles until she drifted off to sleep, her dreams filled with various faces, endless corridors, and a certain blue-eyed American.


	3. Chapter 3

"Guatemala! Aloha!" Guatemala glanced over her shoulder as Hawaii trotted into view, meeting her at the door of the dining hall. When Guatemala had groggily sat up that morning, Jamaica was tangled up in her purple blankets, smirking softly in her sleep with one pillow under her arm and the other on the floor; Hawaii was already out of the room with her bed made and lava lamp switched off. Sighing silently, Guatemala threw on her favorite outfit- a spaghetti strapped, plain black dress with a blue cover up- and slipped out of the room, Jamaica not even budging the entire time. For a brief moment she feared her new companion was dead.

"Oh, hola, Hawaii," Guatemala replied tiredly, offering a slight smile.

"So after breakfast, I was thinking we should totally walk around the garden, I haven't taken you there yet have I? Dude, it's _so _pretty," Hawaii exclaimed, flapping her hand up and down absently the entire time she walked into the room with Guatemala in wake.

"Sure, I don't see why not," she told her with a shrug. Hawaii's already beamish grin seemed to brighten tenfold as her eyes drifted over to the end of the buffet table. A nation with dark brown hair pulled into a low ponytail stood by the silverware, casually picking up a pair of chopsticks. It was remarkable, really, how quickly a pleasant expression could break off of Hawaii's face as he proceeded over to an empty table.

"Damn, I missed him," she huffed under her breath. Something seemed to click in Guatemala's mind.

"Is that why you eat the stupidest things with chopsticks? Just so you can-"

"-be by China for a legitimate reason? Yup," Hawaii finished in almost a grumble, dragging herself over to the stack of trays at the start of the breakfast line. Guatemala shook her head and followed after her friend. _Why would anyone be so determined to get a boy's attention?_ She wondered. Noticing Hawaii waggling her fingers flirtatiously at a passing Finnish boy, she added: _Make that _every _boy's attention?_

After assembling a fruit salad, Guatemala took a seat at a table consisting of Hawaii, a half asleep Jamaica, a quite unnoticeable boy with glasses and wavy blonde hair seated at the corner of the bench, three boys known as the Baltics cowering on the opposite side of the table, and a few Hawaiian citizens. Guatemala had only managed to swallow one slice of mango when she heard Hawaii slide away from her side with a snicker, and felt someone immediately take her place. Setting down the strawberry she'd plucked out of her bowl, Guatemala slowly turned to face this new person. Disgust, surprise, anger, and fluster exploded inside of her all at once.

"Yo! Just swinging by to tell ya good morning!"

Guatemala narrowed her eyes at the spectacled country. "I know that isn't _all _you want from me."

America snapped his gloved fingers overdramatically. "Damn, you're onto me. Anyhoo, I decided that I am so not gonna accept your rejection. I'll ask you again: wanna go on a date?" He batted his eyelashes like a flirtatious teenage girl. This action was accompanied, though, by him raising a hand protectively over his nose. It didn't look like he intended to do this.

Sighing, Guatemala reached up and grabbed his wrist; he stiffened as she attempted to bring his arm back down. "If you're not man enough to take 'no' for an answer, then… Sí, fine. I'll go on _one _date with you. Just uno, and only if you promise to back off afterwards."

Seemingly forgetting that Guatemala was most likely prone to punching him in the face, America's expression lit up. "Well, I can't _promise _to back off… But I'll try. That is, if you still don't want anything to do with me afterwards." He winked, but Guatemala just rolled her eyes in response.

"Where and when must I suffer this torture?"

America pouted. "Come on, it'll be _fun! _6:30 tonight, in the garden. We can chill on that bench in the first bend…"

"Fine, whatever you want," Guatemala muttered, her heart fluttering increasingly in her chest. If she hadn't averted her gaze to the table, she was quite certain she would have done something dreadful: _smiled _at America.

"In that case, see you then," America declared, getting to his feet. He gave Guatemala a daring peck on the cheek before striding off to sit with some of his "bros." Although he walked with a vibe of prideful accomplishment, in truth he was shocked that he'd actually succeeded.

"You were right… That was _tan bella_," Guatemala breathed after Hawaii concluded her tour of the academy's massive garden. It was so peaceful there, with hedges forming a simple maze, neatly trimmed luscious grass, fragrant flowers of nearly every variety, countless species of butterflies and songbirds, plus just a handful of fellow students… However, a thought occurred to Guatemala that shattered her bliss. "You've been on a billion dates, I'm sure… What should I wear?"

Hawaii turned to her, an irremovable gentle grin on her face though surprise flickered in her eyes. "I can't believe it. You're actually serious about this date?"

Blushing, Guatemala glared at the ground. "I, don't want to hurt America's pathetic feelings," she defended meekly. Hawaii snickered and briefly clapped Guatemala on the back, proceeding to hold her out at arm's length. She looked her friend up and down, biting the inside of her cheek with her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Hm… You look just fine. Besides, if you're only 'sparing his feelings,' you don't wanna make it look like you care _too _much, right? Just fix up your hair a little, maybe freshen up a bit, we can head back to the dorm and I'll help you out…" Hawaii's hazel eyes drifted to her wristwatch, and she gasped. "Oh, scratch that! We don't have time! Good luck hun, toodles!" Without further comment, Hawaii bolted off toward the school building. Guatemala sighed inwardly and glanced down at her own watch (it had been a birthday gift from Spain a year back). 6:32… America wasn't even on time for his own date? How gentlemanly.

Guatemala immediately sat on the black iron and wooden bench located neatly in a corner where the edges of two bushes met. She glanced at her watch every 30 seconds, groaning whenever a minute passed. After checking 8 times, she gave up on concerning herself with the task and resorted to sitting there with her legs crossed partially and hands fiddling with her hair. Maybe she should have let Hawaii fix it right there in the garden… As her fingers accidentally passed over her hair curl, though, she shivered and countered herself.

It was at 6:38 that America sashayed up to her, guitar strapped to his back. It was a good thing Guatemala didn't have time to go back and change into something fancier: America was wearing a simple pair of blue jeans and his usual bomber jacket. "Normally I don't care at all about time, but I expected you to be a little earlier," Guatemala remarked after clearing her throat.

"Sorry. Thought I'd show up fashionably late…" America's smirk faltered ever so slightly. "I hope I didn't make you wait too long."

Guatemala wanted to say something snarky to induce at least a little guilt, yet something about the youthful, excited sparkle in America's blue eyes changed her mind. "N…no es nada. It's nothing," she muttered, drifting her eyes toward her lap. Her already slight blush intensified when America gently cupped her chin in his hand.

"Why won't you ever look at me?" he questioned gently.

Well, there was no point in lying… "You're not the type of person I'd prefer to associate with… And when I look at you, I feel, I don't know…_Comfortable. _But I know I shouldn't."

America softened his grin and slid next to her on the bench. "_Know _you shouldn't, or _think _you shouldn't?"

Guatemala's immediate response was that she knew she shouldn't. However, she let her jaw go slack as she realized that perhaps she simply didn't _want _to be in acquaintance with America. So far, she decided he was a childish, flirtatious, dull, slightly spiteful type of person. Then again, she barely knew him at all… "I might as well give you a chance," she thought aloud.

"Good," smiled America. He shifted his position in order to sling his electric guitar over his front without smacking Guatemala with the instrument's neck. He ran his fingers nonchalantly over the strings; it actually made quite a pleasant pinging sound when it wasn't plucked into that amp he usually had with him outside… "So. You ever heard of The Plain White T's?"

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Guatemala shook her head slowly. "Isn't that, like… A type of shirt…?"

America let out his signature laugh. The sound was obnoxious, yes, but something about it made a smile seep onto Guatemala's face… "True, but I'm referring to a band. They've got this song called 'Hey There Delilah'… I went ahead and personalized it just for you," he explained. He situated his fingers on the strings, getting in his musical zone… After strumming a few chords, he applied lyrics to accompany the guitar:

_Hey there Silvia, what's it like in Guatemala?_

_I'm a thousand miles away,_

_But girl tonight you look so pretty, yes you do…_

_Times Square can't shine as bright as you, I swear it's true…_

His singing voice was relatively high, almost whiny… Yet he put so much feeling into it, and presented it in a way that could only be described as seducing…. Guatemala found herself closing her eyes as he carried on.

_Hey there Silvia, don't you worry about the distance,_

_I'm right there if you get lonely give this song another listen,_

_Close your eyes, listen to my voice it's my disguise…_

_I'm by your side…_

"What, is that it?" Guatemala whispered after a few seconds of silence. America smiled at her apologetically, slackening his grip on the guitar.

"I didn't have time to learn the whole song… I could, though!" He faked a look of remembrance. "Oh, right, you want me to leave you alone after this…"

Guatemala shifted herself to face him more, offering a slight smile. "Look. Let's get to know each other better, just talk for a while… If I end up liking what I'm hearing, well… I'd be _honored _to give that song another listen." America chuckled- not obnoxiously- and stripped himself of his guitar.

"Well what do you want to know about me?"

"I don't know… Everything?"

America ran his fingers across Guatemala's tan cheek, no longer feeling as if this was a risky move. "I can say the same about you."

An hour and a half later, Guatemala returned to her dorm. She entered the room as if she walking on air, staring dreamily into space with a blissful smile on her lips. "Back from your date?" Hawaii confirmed with a slight smirk.

"Sí," Guatemala breathed.

"Did you have _fun?_" Jamaica mused, sitting upright (she had been laying upside-down on her bed, as usual).

"Sí," Guatemala repeated.

"So you like America now?" Hawaii validated hopefully.

"Sí." Guatemala kneeled in front of her dresser, groping its front for the handle to her pajama drawer.

"Think you'd go on another date with 'im?" asked Jamaica.

"Sí," Guatemala sighed without faltering her smile.

Hawaii's eyes were absolutely sparkling at this point, and she kept gripping her blanket excitedly. "This is so adorable… Guatemala, tell me: are you possibly like, falling in _love _with America?'

This time, Guatemala paused, but only for a second. "Sí."

Jamaica smirked and voiced the question that had popped into her head the second she saw her roommate looking so, for lack of a better word, love struck: "Did you get laid, mon?"

"Sí. …Wait, what, NO!" Guatemala shrieked, finally snapping out of her daze. Blushing madly at this point, she selected a nightgown and slammed her drawer shut. "Don't be disgusting…. But, he _did _manage to sweep me off my feet. He really is a hero in that aspect. Plus get this: he asked me to be his girlfriend, and…" Hawaii drew in a huge gasp of anticipation. "I accepted." Hawaii cheered and embraced her friend in a tight hug.

"That's _so. CUTE! _Oh my gosh Sil, you have a _boyfriend!"_

"I know…" However, it wasn't until that very moment that the full reality of the situation settled down on her. Words like "America" and "Boyfriend" and "Dating" swirled around in her brain until she had to remind herself to change into her nightgown. "I know," she repeated in a whisper.


	4. Chapter 4

"…You have to be kidding me." Guatemala stared down at the outfit laid out for her on her recently made bed. With the events her first few days had in store for her, by the time Monday came rolling in she completely forgot that she was required to wear a uniform.

The morning was going well for her; she woke up before even Hawaii, so after stretching and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes she made her way down to the restroom. Since only two of the many showers were occupied, she selected the one closest to the door and turned on the water. It wasn't until she had completely scrubbed shampoo- a tropical scent Hawaii insisted she borrow- into her hair that she realized she had been murmuring the song America had serenaded her with on their first date. She abruptly silenced herself, glancing around in embarrassment as if expecting listeners to be standing beside her under the water, and then just smiled and continued the tune in a hum.

A few girls greeted her on her way back to the dorm; she simply gave them a half-hearted wave in return, not exactly glad that a couple of her peers viewed her for the first time while she was in but a towel. She had barely turned her key into the doorknob of her dorm when Hawaii embraced her in a hug. "Good morning, Guatemala! Oh, gosh, you're wet." She laughed and took a few steps backward, giving her companion enough room to enter.

"Sí, people usually get wet after showering," Guatemala muttered, making her way over to her bed. Halfway through taking a step, she froze and glanced over her shoulder at Hawaii. The Hawaiian was obviously lost in a daydream at the moment, so Guatemala didn't feel rude as she looked her up and down. "Is that… our uniform?" she muttered. Hawaii blinked heavily, jolting back into reality. Her airy grin turned solid and bright.

"You bet! Isn't it cute?" She held out her arms like an airplane and revolved on her spot; however, Guatemala was no longer watching. Instead, she was looking at the ensemble set out for her, the pleasant mood from when she woke up being suddenly forgotten.

Every piece of the outfit was laid out separately: a black tie; a plaid red skirt; a reddish-pink blazer jacket; a simple white dress shirt. Hawaii was right: it was cute. Fashionable, but not too fancy… Basic, but not too plain. Guatemala had to admit, it would look nice on others and maybe even her, yet something about it just made her skin crawl.

"Well what are you waiting for, mon, try it on," urged Jamaica. Guatemala jumped slightly, unaware that her mellow roommate was awake. To her surprise, the Jamaican was sitting cross-legged on her bed (despite the fact that she was in a skirt) and smiling casually at her. Jamaica and Hawaii's uniforms were identical to Guatemala's, except Hawaii's jacket was cream-colored and Jamaica's was a navy blue. Well, at least the students' clothing would have _some _variety…

"Shouldn't you two have gotten showers?" Guatemala questioned, her eyes now glued back on her ensemble.

"Got them last night," the other girls answered simultaneously. Guatemala just nodded slowly, and reluctantly slid off her damp towel.

~.~.~.~.~.~

The rest of the week went by quite smoothly for Guatemala. She managed to adjust to the uniform, especially when America told her that she "totally rocked it." Guatemala still couldn't believe that she had a boyfriend, yet alone such a cute and funny one. Yeah, he was an airhead, but she was used to people like that, having grown up with Spain. Although it was true that they only acted like a couple by greeting each other at meals and hanging out during breaks, Guatemala didn't complain: she knew she was lucky to be in a relationship at all. Besides, she was content eating with Jamaica, Hawaii, and Cuba plus America promised to take her on another date soon.

Not only that, but Guatemala managed to make a few new acquaintances over the first three days of classes. She couldn't really call the first person a _friend,_ though they weren't exactly on bad terms…

Her final class before lunch that Monday was Biology. As she had for all her previous classes, she smoothed out her skirt and wiped her face of any expression besides a slight smile before entering the classroom. The teacher- a spectacled woman that looked to be about 60 years old (very few of the teachers were countries themselves)- motioned her over the second she walked in. "You must be Guatemala," she confirmed.

"Sí, I am," Guatemala responded with a small nod to her head.

The teacher also nodded, and gazed toward the only lab station that didn't have 2 people sitting at it. "England, I know you've been doing fine on your own, but would you mind having Guatemala as a lab partner?" she called to the back of the room. The boy in question had been staring outside with his elbow propped on the desk and his chin resting in his palm, but he now glanced in the teacher's direction. He shrugged with a bored sigh before returning his eyes to the window. Guatemala made her way over to sit beside him, already accustomed to the stares she received as she passed.

She didn't at all like the vibe she got from this blonde boy: it was obvious that he'd much rather be anywhere else. A thought popped into Guatemala as she carefully sat in the seat beside him. America was always talking and smiling, and he was so popular… Maybe she should try on America's outgoing personality. There was a minute until the bell rang; here was her chance. "Hola, I'm Guatemala. You're England…?"

England sighed again and brought his arm down, turning slightly to face her. "Yes. I am."

"I've never been to a school like this before, it's magnífico… Nothing at all like the little public school I used to go to," Guatemala commented. England groaned under his breath, making the forced friendly smile on Guatemala's face falter. She wasn't going to give up so soon though. "Biology, huh? This should be pretty interesting. Are you good at this class?" The look on England's face clearly said that he would love for her to shut up, but she ignored that. "I'm pretty superstitious: scientific reasoning isn't always good enough for me. I'm not half bad at this type of thing, though…"

The irritation evident in England's emerald colored eyes suddenly dimmed. "So you believe in stupid things like magic?"

Guatemala tried not to look too offended. "Sí. Folklore and pixies are _much _more appealing than textbooks and primates." Being talkative was gradually becoming more natural.

To Guatemala's mild shock, a minuscule smile seeped onto England's features. "Funny. I thought I was the only one who thought that way." Now smiling herself, Guatemala started to reply, but was interrupted by the shrill sound of the bell that signaled class was now in session.

The next companions were made on Tuesday, when Guatemala entered Literature class for the first time. "What perfect timing for you to join us, Ms. Guatemala! We were just starting our Shakespeare unit, and didn't have an even number of students for the groups… Now we do!" exclaimed the teacher, who was a young British man. He motioned toward the only cluster of desks where 3 students sat instead of 4. Everyone in the trio was male: a stern-looking, muscular blonde boy, a gentle-looking Asian boy, and a boy with reddish-brown hair and a big smile on his face as he doodled in a notebook. "Sorry if you feel uncomfortable working with all men, but they wouldn't hurt a _fly,_" the teacher assured Guatemala with a warm smile.

"Ciao, pretty lady! I'm Italy!" the smiling one chimed, taking her hand in both of his and shaking it eagerly the moment Guatemala sat down. She chuckled, unable to frown in this boy's cheery presence.

"Hallo, I'm Germany," the blonde grunted. Certainly, it was possible to frown around _him. _Cowering was also probable.

"Konnichiwa, my name is Japan," murmured the Asian boy.

"It's nice to meet you all. I'm Guatemala," Guatemala responded, slowly looking at all of them. And that is how she met and befriended the Axis.

The last person, Guatemala met on accident. She had walked around half the school before realizing she had read her schedule wrong, and was heading to Art, not English. The thing is, those two classes were on the complete opposite sides of the gigantic school. In her haste to straighten herself out, Guatemala actually got herself even _more _lost and ended up stumbling into the music room about 3 minutes after the bell rang. A boy with cross-shaped clip in his blondish hair had the entire class's attention as he stood at the front of the room, drawing a bow back and forth across a violin's strings. The sound it created was so beautifully melodic that Guatemala couldn't help but stop and listen.

"…Can I help you?" The teacher- Mr. Austria, Guatemala knew him as- caught sight of Guatemala and turned to face her… along with the rest of the class. The blissful music that had been filling the room came to a sudden halt. The boy on the violin had looked so at peace, focused; Guatemala felt immensely guilty for interrupting.

"Lo siento, it's just… I can't find the English room…" Mr. Austria failingly attempted to mask his frustration.

"The English room? That's right around the corner," he indicated.

"Oh, alright… Gracias…" Trying to deny that her face was practically glowing in embarrassment, Guatemala turned on her heel and dashed back into the hallway. She managed to hear Mr. Austria saying: "I'm sorry Mr. Norway, please continue," followed by the sound of the violin resuming. Although Guatemala wished she would never again have to see the poor boy whose solo she interrupted, in truth she would come to be quite close to him….

Before she could even acknowledge that she wasn't alone in the hallway, Guatemala was colliding with someone. "OW!" they shouted in unison as their foreheads bashed together, Guatemala ramming into the other person so hard that she knocked them to the ground.

"Watch where you're going, bastard!" the person shouted, rubbing his temple furiously. He opened one eye, and softened his expression the slightest bit when he realized it was a _girl _that had run into him. A blush swept across his cheeks as he became aware that Guatemala was leaning over him, her knees on either side of his waist, as he lay on the floor.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" Guatemala snapped, scrambling upright.

"Shouldn't _you?_" countered the boy, dismissing the position they had just been in and glaring at her. Guatemala found something about him rather familiar… That's right! He resembled Italy from Literature, right down to a stray strand of hair, except that his hair was slightly darker in color and his face had slightly different features. Not to mention his expression was the complete opposite of Italy's constant one.

"I'm new, I have reason to be late," Guatemala reasoned, brushing off her knees. The boy started to growl something else at her, until the loudspeaker crackled to life.

"Lovino Vargas, please come down to the main office," a female voice called.

"Damn it, that's me," the boy huffed. Without a backward glance at Guatemala, he pushed himself to his feet and speed-walked irritably down the hall.

Gears seemed to click in Guatemala's head as she shuffled off to English. Lovino Vargas… That led her to think of "South Italy," which led to "Romano…" A look of pure disgust made its way onto her face. "_That's _who Papa wants me to date?!" she shrieked under her breath.


	5. Chapter 5

"Okay, you need to stop."

With an almost inhuman shriek, Hawaii stood bolt upright, almost hitting her head on the table she had been hiding under. She fell backwards quite painfully, since she found keeping her precious camera safe a higher priority than her _own _safety. Fortunately for Hawaii, the Asian nation that had been the victim of her stealthy snapshots just glanced up from his novel before deciding he just imagined the sound he heard, shrugging, and returning to reading.

"Oh, hola, Guatemala!" Hawaii exclaimed as quietly as possible. She sat up and grabbed her friend by the arm and yanked her downward, a huge grin on her face. How remarkable it was that someone could recover that quickly… The speed at which she changed from a beamish smile to a pout was also noteworthy. "Stop what?" she asked innocently.

Guatemala rolled her eyes, totally not buying it. "Taking pictures like that. Don't you think that's an invasion of privacy?"

"But… He has a cute little panda with him! Pandas are a turn-on." Hawaii shook her camera in Guatemala's face as if that would help prove her point. On the contrary, Guatemala smacked the device away.

"If you were just taking pictures for the Yearbook Club, I'd understand. But this personal collection of yours is creepy, and wrong, and you should delete it, Leilani," Guatemala insisted sternly.

Hawaii cringed at the use of her human name, though not before drawing in a gasp of pure terror. She clutched her camera protectively against her chest. "'Delete it'?! My photos are my babies!"

"Can I _see _your babies?" Guatemala inquired with a raised eyebrow.

There was a pause. "Trust me, you don't want to," Hawaii giggled. Remembering being told that Hawaii got her first detention for being caught in the boys' locker room, Guatemala shuddered slightly and decided she was right.

"Well… You should at _least _leave poor China alone," Guatemala sighed, presuming that he took up a good portion of memory on Hawaii's camera. "…What if you got a boyfriend?"

That perked Hawaii right up; she almost hit her head on the table again, and the sparkle in her eyes would make the brightest stars look dim in comparison. "Huh? What? Who do you have in mind?"

Guatemala thought for a moment. "You have a thing for that one blonde guy… Switzerland, sí?"

"Sí, sí! I do!" Hawaii squealed airily, clasping her hands.

"Lucky for you, I heard from America who heard from England who heard from France who heard from Prussia who heard from Austria that Switzerland's little sister has been suggesting to him in all of her recent letters that he should get a girlfriend."

"I'LL DO IT!" Hawaii shrieked, completely disregarding the fact that she was in a library and trying to avoid being seen by China. She bolted to her feet and shot out the door in search of the Swiss nation before another word on the matter could be spoken.

The next time Guatemala saw Hawaii wasn't until that night. She was sitting on her bed, completing the day's homework assignments with Jamaica (Guatemala was quite surprised to see that the Jamaican actually relatively cared about schoolwork. She wasn't very good at it… But she did put effort into working on it and asked Guatemala the occasional [ridiculous] question). All was silent except for the scratching of pen on paper and Jamaica's out-of-tune humming until the door to their dorm swung open with a _bang _against the wall.

In the doorway stood a very ecstatic Hawaii, pure victory blazing furiously in her eyes. "Guatemala, I _love _you."

Guatemala just blinked, used to Hawaii's unusual outbursts at this point. "Can you love me quietly?"

Hawaii just giggled into her hands, hopping over to her bed and kicking off her sandals. "Oh my gosh, it was the cutest thing. I walked up to him, got him all flirted up, and asked him out… Switzy got all blushy and stuttery and started to decline, but he eventually sighed, probably realized he wasn't dreaming, and said yes!" She literally started to rock back and forth in her giddiness. "God, I love him.."

"Hawaii… You've been dating for less than 4 hours," Guatemala reminded her after briefly choking on air.

"I know, I know, I don't mean I _love _love him… It's like, puppy love," Hawaii explained, flapping her hand casually as she spoke. Guatemala opened her mouth, decided commenting would be fruitless, _closed _her mouth, and returned to her homework.

~.~.~.~.~

Guatemala was also working on a relationship… But not a romantic one. Don't worry, though; everything was fine with her and America. An unintentional schedule had developed between them: greet each other in the stairwell that led away from the dorms, share a kiss (which lasted longer and longer as the days went by), head down to breakfast hand-in-hand, part ways at the door of the cafeteria, walk each other to whatever classes weren't out of the way, meet up outside either Guatemala's or America's dorm at the end of the day, share a good-night kiss before bed, and go on two dates every weekend.

During the times that Guatemala wasn't around her boyfriend, she was strengthening a certain friendship.

"Buenos días, Cuba," Guatemala greeted on an average Wednesday morning. Although the Baltics tended to drift around the cafeteria and different citizens came and went, there was one group that remained at the table: Guatemala, Cuba, Jamaica, Hawaii, and the seemingly-invisible blonde boy. As it turned out, his name was Canada, and among Cuba's only friends. Guatemala was absolutely shocked to learn that he was America's twin brother. She knew he looked familiar…. Of course, it got on her nerves that Hawaii kept referring to Canada as Guatemala's future in-law.

Currently, Cuba and Guatemala conversed casually in Spanish for a bit until Jamaica sat herself between the two of them. Guatemala just rolled her eyes, but Cuba looked about ready to murder her. "Morning, bro," Jamaica said to Cuba. "What's up?"

"Wishing we weren't related," Cuba muttered. It took a moment for that to truly register in Guatemala's head.

"Hold on a second… You two are _actually _siblings?" she confirmed, her jaw dropping slightly.

Jamaica and Cuba glanced at each other before staring skeptically at Guatemala. "Yeah, mon… Why did you think I always call him 'bro'?"

In honesty, Guatemala had just gotten so used to America calling everyone "bro" that she didn't think anything of it when other people used the term, but she figured that wouldn't go down well if she brought it up in Cuba's presence. So instead she just shrugged and stated, "I'd never think you two were brother and sister." It was true: Cuba had thick eyebrows, Jamaica had thin; Cuba's build was about three times the size of Jamaica's; Jamaica's skin was a shade or two darker than Cuba's. Then again, their hair was similar in color and texture plus their eyes were nearly identical… Maybe if Cuba slimmed down, it _could _be obvious that the two were related.

"So where's your little whore friend?" Cuba questioned as he stabbed at his frozen ice cream with a spoon. Guatemala tried to convince him that the sugary treat wasn't a healthy breakfast, to no avail.

"She was here for a couple minutes earlier, but then she saw her new boyfriend and abandoned us to sit with him," Guatemala explained, completely unfazed by her friend being referred to as a whore.

"She's got a boyfriend now? Poor guy. …I just have to ask. Why do you even hang out with her?" Cuba wondered aloud without even looking at Guatemala.

As much as she hated to admit it, Guatemala actually had to think on that one for a bit. "Well… She seems to like me… And she _is _pretty helpful when I need her to be. It's hard to not be friends with someone that's so outgoing… Especially when they're your _roommate. _Not to mention I don't exactly have many other friends besides her."

Cuba set down his spoon and turned to look down at Guatemala. "_I_ have no problem being near enemies with friendly douches like her. And so what if you don't have many friends? You've got my weirdass sister, and you've got me. That should be enough." He ruffled Guatemala's hair, being careful to avoid the curl.

"I guess that's true," Guatemala admitted, allowing a smile to inch onto her face. Of course she wasn't going to add that she also had America, seeing as the name was taboo to Cuba. The grin that appeared on his normally gruff face was enough to push away any guilty feelings Guatemala held. She knew, though, that there was no way she'd end up cutting ties with the obnoxious Hawaiian in question.


	6. Chapter 6

September seemed to slip away as Guatemala got more and more accustomed to the school- its classes, students, and teachers, alike- and before she knew it, she was getting used to writing an October date at the top of her papers. It wasn't long before Guatemala started being on time for every class without ending up in the wrong room. Everything had fallen into a systematic pattern; however, something changed about two weeks into October.

"Silvia del Rosario Castro, please come down to the main office," called a smooth feminine voice over the intercom. Guatemala, who was sitting practically on America's lap out in the gardens while she helped him with math homework, shot her gaze up in surprise. Had she heard correctly? Of course she had; after all, they were sitting right beneath a post with a loudspeaker on it.

"Ooooh, you're in troubllllle," America teased, secretly just glad to have an excuse to close his textbook. Guatemala lightly smacked his arm with a half grin appearing on her face.

"Oh shut it… I'll be back later."

"Cool. I'll be here," America informed, picking his guitar up off the ground and situating it on his lap. "Love ya."

Guatemala paused, having started to walk away already. Her heart skipped a beat. Was that a phrase that Americans just casually threw around, like the term "bro"? Or did America just confess his legitimate love for her? Unsure of how to take it, Guatemala hesitantly went with the former and dashed off into the school.

"Ms. Guatemala, there's been a mix up with your schedule," the headmaster informed her upon her arrival in the main office. She'd only been there a handful of times, as all new students have, and the size of the room still fascinated her. It was practically an entire level of an office building, with all the receptionists and desks. Hearing them chatter away on their phones in countless different languages was quite amusing.

"I'm sure you've noticed that you're attending two similar math classes," continued the principal, since Guatemala had remained patiently silent.

"Sí… A bunch of people have multiple mathematics classes though, don't they?" Guatemala responded with mild confusion.

The headmaster- Mr. Danketsu- nodded. "Some students take the regular math courses, as well as Math Support… I know your friend Mr. America does." Guatemala couldn't help but flinch slightly. America really wasn't the brightest banana in the bunch, was he? "You, however, were only supposed to be in _one _mathematics class. In place of your second one, you were supposed to be taking Musical Arts."

For a brief moment, Guatemala was quite peeved that the school had taken so long to notice the error in her schedule. Then again, she reasoned that it couldn't be an easy job keeping over 1,000 students maintained. Once more, Guatemala just kept her mouth shut and waited for Mr. Danketsu to keep talking.

From the front desk, the older man retrieved a few sheets of paper. "This is your accurate schedule," he told Guatemala, holding out the first sheet. She took it with an uttered "gracias" and read it over, relieved to see they had simply substituted her extra Arithmetic with Musical Arts. She noticed, however, that the room number to which she was expected to report was blank. "These are the forms you have to fill out so we can determine exactly which program to place you in." Mr. Danketsu tapped the rest of the papers he'd given Guatemala. "Complete them now, then after dinner I'll call you back down and give you your room number."

Guatemala nodded slowly. Did all schools operate like this? Shrugging it off, she sat herself in a chair off to the side and took the pen that the headmaster supplied her with.

She was surprised to see that the questions were like those of a third grade getting-to-know-you survey. At the top, it asked to name the languages she was most fluent in. Then there were questions such as: "Do you have any experience playing an instrument? If so, which one(s)?" "On a scale of 1 to 10, how much does having a music class mean to you?" "Do you see yourself having a career in the music industry?" "How comfortable are you performing in front of others?" "Do you prefer to learn with a big group of people, or a small?" "Are you able to read sheet music?" et cetera. Immediately feeling slightly annoyed at its simplicity, Guatemala proceeded to answer everything.

The final page in the thin stack consisted of a single question (well, statement) along with a lengthy organized list. At the top, it read: "Our school offers a wide variety of musical instruments. Each student is expected to have the knowledge of how to play at least one of the many available (listed below). Please circle any that you have experience with playing." Guatemala raised an eyebrow, having never heard anything about this before. Obviously, she knew that America played guitar, and she had often stumbled upon Hawaii strumming along on a ukulele, but she had been unaware that everyone was _required _to play something.

Well, no matter. When she was younger, Guatemala had always been fascinated by musicians playing some large, strange instrument on street corners. It was the size of a small table or maybe a large desk. The thing seemed to be a combination of a piano and a xylophone, and had bars of various sizes hanging down from it. Guatemala eventually learned it was called a marimba, and Spain bought her one for her tenth birthday. She had taught herself how to play, insisting that official lessons were overrated, and come 4 years she was roughly as good as professional players.

As her eyes scanned down the list, she read names of instruments she had never even heard of; names she couldn't _pronounce_; instruments like guitars and drums that had tons of subgroups. The list seemed to be in alphabetical order; as a result, she skipped right the "M" instruments… except there weren't any. It went right from "launedda" to "nose flute."

Now that's just unfortunate.

Sighing, Guatemala proceeded to circle "None" at the bottom of the page. She flipped back to the beginning, skimmed through the questions to see if they were all answered correctly and honestly, then gave a slight nod to her head and stood up. "Señor Danketsu, I'm finished," she called. The almost-elderly headmaster looked up from his paperwork with a warm grin.

"Thank you, Ms. Guatemala. I'll call you back down this evening after I've evaluated your answers," he indicated, taking the small stack of papers. Guatemala nodded, bowed her head, and rushed off to rejoin her waiting boyfriend.

~.~.~.~

Right after dinner, Guatemala found herself in Mr. Danketsu's private office ("Called down to the office _again_? You're a fine little delinquent!" America had exclaimed as they walked down the hall together), which was through a door in the _main _office. It was a homey little room, with just a desk, old desktop computer, filing cabinet, bookshelf, and potted plant.

"May I see the schedule I gave you?" Guatemala nodded with a quiet "Of course," removing the piece of paper from the handmade back slung over her shoulder. She gently dropped it into the headmaster's outstretched hand. He selected a pen from a jar on the corner of his desk and neatly printed a 3 digit number into the blank spot on Guatemala's schedule before handing it back to her.

"That's where you'll report to every other day for the remainder of the year, starting tomorrow."

Guatemala stared at the number, trying to determine which hall it was down. Its location seemed to be ringing a bell… Ah, yes. It was across from the Biology Lab. …But wait. If her memory was serving her correctly, that was just an empty classroom… Before she could bring this up, however, Mr. Danketsu was wishing her a good night.

"Sí, buenas noches, señor." With that, she folded up her schedule, tucked it safely into her bag, and continued on her way to the dorm. If this turned out another mistake on the school's part, she'd just have to confront Mr. Danketsu about it later.

The following day, Guatemala learned that this was not in fact an error, although it seemed like it at first. Come last period, she reported to the room Mr. Danketsu had written down for her; sure enough, it seemed to be an underused storage room with a whiteboard, stacked chairs, music stands, empty instrument cases, shelves upon shelves of untouched or aged sheet music, and a couple desks. Just when Guatemala was about to check if she was in the correct place, she realized she wasn't alone in the room.

"Hallo," said the most- there was no other word for it- seducing voice Guatemala had heard in her life. It was gentle while also harsh in some way; monotone yet moving; too high to be considered low, too low to be considered high, but too prominent to be in the middle. The boy's features complimented his voice well: a girlish figure beneath his uniform, emotionless violet eyes, a straight line for a mouth, and hair that was a unique shade of silvery cream-blonde, with a cross-shaped hair clip that seemed to just be there for decoration.

Now where had Guatemala seen him before…

"Hola," she responded hesitantly, taking a half step further into the room. The boy shifted his position so he was standing away from the desk he had been leaning against.

"I'll take it you're Guatemala." It was rather obvious that the boy wasn't exactly eager to be there.

"Sí, I am… And you are?"

"Norway."

So _that's _where Guatemala had seen him before! He was the boy whose violin solo she had interrupted a few weeks back. …No wonder he didn't look too pleased to see her. "Am I in the right place? I'm supposed to be in Musical Arts."

Although he remained expressionless, Norway's aura gave away that he was growing more irritated by the second. "This _is _Musical Arts. Didn't Mr. Danketsu explain anything to you?" With his voice, it sounded almost like Norway stated the question.

"No… He just had me fill out some forms, and then told me to report to this room for this period," Guatemala told him. The overhead sound of the late bell ringing made Guatemala hope even more that she was in the right place.

Norway sighed almost unnoticeably, absently motioning Guatemala further inside. "I'll tell you, then. Mr. Danketsu seems to have decided you're most suited for a course that's more like a tutor session than an actual class, seeing as it's just you and me. It follows a different curriculum than the other Musical Arts classes, so it has different priorities," he explained in a bored tone.

"How can you teach me all year if you're a student yourself?" was all Guatemala could think of to say.

"I advanced out of my own music class, so I was 'promoted' to this," Norway indicated as if commenting about the weather. Guatemala managed to prevent her eyes from bugging out of her head. Norway made a movement with his arm- so lightly that you'd think it was made out of feathers- toward one of the desks that seemed quite of place in the middle of the carpeted room. "Sit down so I can tell you how this program goes." Quite unpleasantly feeling like she was in the limelight, Guatemala slid into the seat.

Norway swept to the back of the room, shortly returning to Guatemala's proximity to smack a packet onto her desk. "The way to pass this course is straightforward, really: understand how to read music- both notes and solfège- so you can take tests on them; pick an instrument from the school's list and perfect 1 short song on it; attend _all _concerts held by the academy; at the end of the year, write an essay on a musician that inspires you."

For a moment, Guatemala just stared blankly down at her packet. How could the headmaster enroll her in a program she knew _nothing _about, without her consent? Maybe he did have years of experience backing up his decision that this course was in her best interest, but would it have killed him to give her at least a little insight beforehand? "So, when do we start?" She wondered if Norway could pick up on the utter lack of eagerness in her tone; odds were that he could.

The Norwegian teen glanced at a note card he had clamped in one hand. "Today I'm just supposed to introduce you to the program and answer any questions you have."

Guatemala quirked one eyebrow. "Well, like you said, the whole thing is pretty straightforward. I don't have any questions." All she received in response was an awkward silence. With a slight shake to his head, Norway shuffled to a stray chair off toward a corner and pulled a book out of his own canvas bag.

A good 10 minutes were spent with Norway absorbed in his novel and Guatemala scribbling away at homework for a different class. Finally, the female nation sighed and practically slammed her notebook shut. She tossed conversation starters back and forth in her head, and gulped silently when she decided on one. "…Lo siento, for interrupting your solo when I was new here."

Norway glanced up from his book and stared at her expressionlessly. "It's nothing," he said after realizing what the Guatemalan girl was talking about. Guatemala shifted in her seat.

"We're gonna be spending a lot of time together, and even if you're my," she shuddered internally at the following word, "tutor now, you're still one of my classmates. Maybe we should… get to know each other."

"…..What do you want to know." Guatemala didn't understand why she was so relieved to see him slip a bookmark into his novel and drop it back into his bag.

"I guess I'll start with, how old are you?"

"I'm 17. But I take a lot of classes for older students. And you're 16, right?" Again, he pretty much stated his question.

Guatemala nodded, sitting up straighter. "Sí, I am." There was a pause. "The group you sit with in the cafeteria. Are they your friends?" Guatemala hadn't actually been fully aware that she noticed Norway's little groupie until now.

"…Sort of. The Dane is in idiot, the Fin is too happy, and the Swede is just plain creepy. They're like brothers to me, though."

"Do you, have any actual brothers? Or sisters?" Wow, talking to people like this felt so awkward; _wrong, _even. Especially when she wasn't trying to act like America, like Guatemala had been doing when she first spoke to England.

The slightest bit of expression flickered in Norway's clouded eyes. Pride and happiness? Or was it some form of sadness? Perhaps it was a mixture of all three. "Ja. I have a brother- Iceland. He's just a toddler."

An unintentional "aww" escaped Guatemala's lips. "I bet he's adorable. I just love kids…"

Norway shrugged, any emotion once again vanishing. "He's okay. Sort of a brat, but all kids are. Do _you _have any siblings?" It was so obvious that he didn't actually care- he just decided to continue the conversation- that Guatemala was briefly offended.

"Sí, my older brother Mexico… But I don't really see him much." Another silence spiraled between the two; an unspoken agreement seemed to pass between them, for they simultaneously resumed reading.

Until the end of the class, they had on-and-off conversations. Guatemala would bring up a topic that popped into her head ("How long have you been playing violin?"), and they'd discuss that until Norway ventured a question himself ("So where did you go to school before this."). It was almost painfully uncomfortable each time, and Guatemala couldn't help but feel frustrated with their inability to click. Nonetheless, when the bell rang, she came to a conclusion: she certainly could have been paired with a better tutor, yet there could also be a _much _worse person in Norway's position.

* * *

**~Author's Note~**

I need to mention that I didn't invent the name Mr. Danketsu- Henrietta R. Hippo did. He's the headmaster in _her _Hetalia Academy stories. i hope she doesn't mind i borrowed the name...

it or not, one of the only friendships in this story that isn't total crack is Guatemala and Norway. The two countries actually have pretty close relations. And sorry if I made Norway out of character... I'm used to RPing Denmark, it's KiwiFruit07's job to be Norge!

BTW. I don't know how it is in other countries, but here in America, us students seem to love assuming the worst when someone gets called down to the principal's office, and make a big deal out of it XD

-67OtakuGirl24X3


	7. Chapter 7

As expected, Guatemala attended her Musical Arts "class" every other day. It was sort of irritating listening to Norway teach, with that (beautiful) monotone voice of his, yet there was no denying that he was rather talented at what he was doing. In fact, Guatemala even suggested that he should be a fulltime teacher after he graduated; the comment caused a light blush to sweep across his cheeks.

Lessons went by rather quickly, with Norway's gift of getting points across and the amateur level of the topic (plus Guatemala could already identify most of the musical notes he was introducing her to); as a result, the two often found themselves with quite some free time at the end of the period. Sometimes they would get work for the next day done, but other times Guatemala would awkwardly or indirectly spark a conversation. As their encounters increased, Norway opened up bit by bit to the point that they were no longer just teacher and student: they were companions.

However, as that relationship built up, an even more significant one crashed to the ground.

"Hey, Hawaii… Do you… happen to know a Romano?" Guatemala inquired one day at breakfast. It was the first time in days- maybe weeks- that Hawaii wasn't sitting with her boyfriend; Switzerland apparently had morning detention with Mr. Austria, so Hawaii sat with her friends for once.

Hawaii gulped down her tropical smoothie, suddenly perking up. "Romano? Why d'you ask?"

Good question. Guatemala had plenty of opportunities to ask about the ill-tempered Italian, yet he'd never come up in conversation. Now, though, as the group of friends sat eating their food in an abnormal silence, Guatemala's thoughts trailed to her first encounter with Romano as they often did when she was spacing out. "Well, I ran into him a while back, and my papa has always wanted me to date him…" she explained hesitantly, glancing down at her breakfast. "I think he used to babysit him," she added.

To the alarm of everyone nearby, Hawaii burst into sudden, brief laughter. "He used to babysit Roma? That's just too cute!" Shaking her head amusedly, Hawaii reduced the volume of her chuckles. "Yeah, yeah, I know Romano. He's Italy's twin brother and polar opposite."

Spoonful of ice cream hanging in his mouth, Cuba made a sound that was like a combination of a grunt and a hum. "You turned him down, right?"

"Technically, no, because I don't think Romano has any clue of Papa's little plan. He didn't ask me out or anything."

Cuba set down his spoon on his tray, glancing over at Guatemala. "But I mean, did you listen to your old man's suggestion?" Guatemala raised an eyebrow skeptically with a partial tilt to her head. Wasn't the answer obvious?

"Of course I didn't."

"Good," Cuba said perhaps a little too quickly. The slightest of slight blushes swept across his cheeks; the only person who noticed at all was Jamaica, and she smirked down at the table upon the observation. "I hear he's a real douche. You shouldn't date a jackass like that."

Maybe there was something slipped into her smoothie. Maybe she was still loopy with happiness about her new boyfriend. Or maybe she was just an airheaded Hawaiian with her mind floating up in a palm tree somewhere. No matter the reason, what Hawaii said next could quite possibly be held against her by Guatemala for the rest of her life (keep in mind that nations do not ever die). "Too late, she's _already _dating a jackass!" she practically sang.

Guatemala snapped her gaze around to stare in alarm at the girl sitting beside her, cocoa-colored eyes widened to the extreme and body stiffened to the point that her heart may have stopped beating. Even Jamaica gave Hawaii a look that clearly said "You should NOT have gone there, mon." Oblivious as ever, Hawaii just kept on smiling until their gazes finally penetrated her and her grin faltered. "…What?"

Now, Hawaii never got along with Cuba. She was used to seeing him scowl, because that was actually the only expression she could ever picture him having. Nonetheless, the fiery murder with the slightest dash of confusion blazing in his face was enough to catch her off guard and maybe even frighten her a bit. "Guatemala… What is she talking about…?" the Cuban asked in a slow, dangerous, I-dare-you-to-prove-me-wrong type of tone.

"I… Well, see… I kind of have a boyfriend…" Guatemala muttered quickly, fiddling with the hem of her skirt and staring nervously down at her hands. It wasn't that she was _scared… _She had just hoped that this conversation would never occur.

"Who is he," Cuba practically growled.

A tense silence that seemed to drown out the surrounding din of the cafeteria occurred. It would be best, Guatemala decided, to get it over with nice and quick, like ripping off a band-aid. She took a deep breath and spluttered amidst a forced cough: "America."

If Cuba was mad before, now he was steaming viciously with absolute rage. He seemed to be holding back a bit, though, like a tightly-coiled spring ready to pounce at any moment. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning pale. "_That _bastard?!"

"Don't yell," Guatemala muttered, glancing around at all the people nearby that paused their conversations or meals to stare in their direction.

"How long?" Cuba spat, ignoring her.

"…Since my second day of school, about…" Guatemala prayed for a fire, or the announcement of a nuclear war, or a spontaneous food fight; anything to prevent this discussion from going down.

"I thought I told you to stay away from him!"

"You're not my father," Guatemala snapped, furrowing her eyebrows together in a frown.

"I never said I was. But I thought I was at least your _friend._"

Okay, that stung quite a bit. "You are! My BEST friend!" Hawaii and Jamaica silently agreed that this was not the time to chime in with 'what about me?' "I just-"

"Look, Silvia." Forget stinging… The use of her human name absolutely _burned. _"I don't know, nor do I _give a damn, _about whatever you see in that blue-eyed moron. But fine, date whoever the hell you want. What's pissing me off is that you didn't trust me enough to tell me!"

"I _do _trust you!" Guatemala insisted, her voice unintentionally coming out as a plea.

"You couldn't even tell me who your boyfriendwas. I don't think you do." Almost shaking with anger at this point, Cuba pressed his palms against the table for support and stood up.

Guatemala desperately grabbed his wrist with both hands. She stared up at the back of his head, since he had turned to walk away, with a mixture of confusion, irritation, and a bit of weakness shimmering in her eyes. "I just… didn't want to upset you," she murmured. Cuba paused before glancing down at her for just a second and yanking his hand free.

"And how did that work out for you." He swung himself over the bench, grabbed a silent (as always) Canada perhaps too roughly by the shoulder, and dragged him off so they could sit alone at an empty table on the other side of the cafeteria.

Jamaica, Hawaii, and Guatemala sat there in shock, staring after Cuba with the occasional glance at each other. Guatemala slowly lowered herself back onto the bench, not even aware that she had gotten to her feet when Cuba stormed off.

"Hey, man… What was that fat Hispanic's deal?" Guatemala jumped at the sudden intrusion of their quiet, spinning around to see her boyfriend standing there with one hand on his hip. Her immediate instinct was to snap at him for insulting Cuba; however, she realized with a pang of regret that he was apparently no longer her friend, so she could let America say whatever he wanted about him. So, instead of standing up for her now ex-friend, she just shook her head.

"It's nothing," she lied, distracting herself by pulling the tie in her hair closer to her head so as to tighten her ponytail. "…Hey, do you want to start sitting with us?" Guatemala suddenly offered. She felt as surprised as America, Hawaii, and Jamaica all looked. Where did that suggestion even _come _from? Maybe, in the back of her mind, she knew that the true reason she never particularly wanted America to share a table with her was because Cuba would be completely opposing. So now that he was gone, it would be perfectly fine to sit with her boyfriend. Then again, maybe it was too soon to make such a rash decision…

But it was too late. America was sitting in the seat Cuba had just left, and starting up a conversation with Hawaii about a post he'd seen on Tumblr. Guatemala couldn't help but steal a glimpse in Cuba's direction; their eyes met for just a moment, and the unfamiliar bitter feelings that passed between them were enough to make Guatemala have to swallow back a lump in her throat.

* * *

**~Author's Note~**

****_Well, now I'm officially going to start putting these at the end of every chapter. :3_

_Anyway. I'm hoping this fan fiction doesn't turn into a Twilight-love-triangle type of story, but I admit it's kinda seeming like it will, with all the pairings I'm throwing in there. So, beloved readers, I must ask: who do you support Guatemala with the most thus far?_


	8. Chapter 8

And so the days went on. Cuba and Canada now sat alone (besides a few citizens of theirs) at their own lunch table while America took Cuba's place, Hawaii coming and going depending on how Switzerland felt. One day, however, the seating arrangement altered a tiny bit. America invited Canada to sit with them again so he could "bond with him and Guatemala," which of course left Cuba absolutely fuming. Jamaica, on the other hand, felt her heart leap at this turn of events. You'd never be able to tell, since the only change in her demeanor was a slight mischievous sparkle in her eyes, but she saw this as an opportunity she needed to seize. She scooped some breakfast onto her tray and shuffled over to her brother with motives only she understood in mind.

"Morning, mon."

"The hell do you want?"

Jamaica pouted ever-so-slightly as she climbed over the bench, nearly spilling her rum in the process. "You don't have to be mean."

Cuba glared at his sister out of the corner of his eye. "Sí, I do."

"What did I ever do to you?"

"You were _born._" Cuba stabbed irritably at his ice cream as he spat his bitter comeback, which didn't actually faze Jamaica. What did put her on alert, however, was the fact that Cuba was yet to take a bite of his breakfast. How strange. By now, he'd usually have been at least halfway finished with the frozen treat.

"Ouch. That hurt." Of course, it didn't really. "So your little boy toy went to bond with his brother, hm?" She knew that was treading on extra thin ice, but Jamaica just couldn't help it. Teasing her brother had become a hobby along with drinking and listening to Bob Marley.

"Don't call him that," Cuba snapped through clenched teeth, jabbing at his ice cream even harder. It was bad enough that Jamaica was bothering him at all, but why the hell did she have to go and remind him that he might possibly lose Canada to America just like he lost Guatemala?

"Oh, sorry, offensive term. Your boy_friend._" Jamaica leaned backward and crossed her ankles under the table, casually taking a sip of her rum. She almost snickered when she noticed Cuba's vicious attack on his ice cream come to an abrupt halt. The key word being "almost."

You could practically see the steam billowing from Cuba's ears. And to think Jamaica was just getting started! "Molly, you _know _he isn't my boyfriend."

"Pulling the human name card, are we? That's cold." Jamaica took another leisurely swig of her rum with so much calmness that Cuba wanted to grab the glass out of her hand and smash it against the ground. "And you forgot 'anymore.'"

"…What?"

"I know he isn't your boyfriend _anymore,_" Jamaica corrected him, smirking on the inside with just her usual minuscule carefree smile actually on her face. Meanwhile, Cuba's cheeks were burning so red that you could probably roast marshmallows off of them.

"W-we were 12."

"Almost 13."

"WHATEVER. I just felt like we were way too close, and I stuck up for him way too much, for us to be just friends. I was a stupid kid that didn't realize you can be close to someone without _dating _them," Cuba defended himself in a loud grumble. Just to make the moment as awkward as possible, Jamaica stayed silent for a few seconds so that his words lingered in the air. Huffing in embarrassment and wishing smoking wasn't prohibited in the cafeteria, Cuba resumed using his spoon to turn his ice cream into a milkshake.

Jamaica took her jolly good time to drain the rum from her glass and take the occasional bite of her cereal, humming simply to amuse herself while also getting on Cuba's nerves. "Speaking of your sucky love life…" she began as suddenly as possible. Now it was time to be at least slightly serious. "You were a little harsh on Guatemala."

It took all of Cuba's willpower to not spin around and smack his sister right across the face. Hearing Guatemala's name was like a bolt of lightning through his heart; knowing that he was being pulled into a conversation about her was like an iron fist to the face. He could've just gotten up and walked away, but Jamaica really didn't ever do anything to deserve his constant coldness toward her. He at least owed her this. "She knew you didn't like America. That's why she didn't tell you she was dating him. She was just being nice. But you go and make her feel like she's a crappy friend." Half of Cuba strongly wanted to insist she was wrong, while the other half hesitantly agreed with her. He decided it best to just stay silent and shoveled some ice cream into his mouth.

"You know what you can do to make her feel better?" Jamaica continued. Seeing that she was obviously waiting for an answer to what was technically a rhetorical question, Cuba glanced at her and raised an eyebrow in response. "Ask her out."

Even though Jamaica stated it like she was commenting about the weather, the words were enough to make Cuba to choke on his spoonful of ice cream and almost accidentally shove the utensil down his throat. "Ask her- WHAT?!"

The smallest of small smirks twitched onto Jamaica's face. "You're in love, mon."

"That's ridiculous." There wasn't a dash of doubt in his tone, either.

"Okay. You have a crush," Jamaica corrected herself, swirling the milk around her cereal without breaking the gaze she aimed toward her brother.

"…No, I don't." That time, his voice was certainly doubtful.

"America and Guatemala have some stuff going on. If you ask her out, she just might say yes," Jamaica assured him. Seeing as America currently had his arm around Guatemala's shoulders, and they were both animatedly involved in a conversation which Canada feebly contributed to, this was definitely a lie; Cuba, though, wouldn't have cared whether it was or wasn't.

"She would NOT. And for the record, I wouldn't want her to. I… hate her. And I hate you too. No wonder you two are friends."

Now, Jamaica was a pretty go-with-the-flow type of person. But that right there pierced even _her _heart. The fact that Cuba proclaimed them loud enough that nearly everyone at the neighboring tables could hear didn't help matters either. Before he could realize the impact of what he just said, or have a chance for his conscience to kick in and make him apologize, Cuba stormed out of the cafeteria while fumbling in his pants pockets for a cigar. The only person besides Jamaica that took note of his leave was Canada, whom murmured a quick good-bye to his brother and hurried out after him.

* * *

**~Author's Note~**

_CuCan, anyone~? I wasn't originally going to include any in here, but I couldn't resist (I personally prefer Franada or AmeriCan, but CuCan's cute too :3). I'd like to thank Jamaica's creator, my bestie, for about half of Jamaica's lines in this chapter. I swear, I can't use other peoples' OCs for the life of me… OTL_

_-67OtakuGirl24X3_


	9. Chapter 9

Now that she and Cuba were no longer friends, Guatemala saw no reason to hide anything in her relationship with America. He still continued to sit with her in the cafeteria for all three meals of the day; they walked each other to _every _class, no matter how out of the way (though they started to practically run there when one of Guatemala's teachers threatened to call Spain if she was late again); the songs America played with his groupie were now often about Guatemala, even using her human name in some lines; their good-night kisses weren't as brief; America's low grade average gave the couple an excuse to have dates even on weeknights, not caring that more than half the time was spent studying quietly in the library.

Really, the only line Guatemala drew was that she outright refused to let America follow her into her dorm.

As free as having such an open relationship with America made her feel, Guatemala couldn't help but feel guilty about flaunting her having of a boyfriend around. She always hated the girls that giggled and kissed and clung to boys like a lifesaver- the type of girls her brother tended to bring home. Was she gradually turning into one of those girls? The very thought made her want to press a _restart _button on life. Regret would claw its way up from the back of her mind whenever she was left to her own thoughts, or caught a glimpse of her Cuban ex-friend. However, all she had to do was be reminded of America's bright smile and twinkling blue eyes to shoot the feeling down.

It also helped matters to have overheard Jamaica telling Hawaii that Cuba said he hated her. Well, it wasn't really a _helpful _thing; in fact, Guatemala was rather wounded for at least a day after understanding that she'd heard correctly. Still, it fueled her motivation to get on with life instead of moping over her shattered friendship.

~.~.~.~.~.~

Anyone could tell simply by the way they looked at each other that America and Guatemala were a couple. The exact opposite, though, could be said about Hawaii and Switzerland. Although they were seen together quite often, it seemed more like a coincidental thing. They didn't do anything couple-like: they didn't walk side by side in the halls; they didn't share laughs with each other; they didn't kiss, cuddle, or even exchange quick hugs; they didn't hold hands if it wasn't under a table where nobody could notice; they didn't have conversations lasting longer than the topics Hawaii would bring up enthusiastically and Switzerland would answer blandly.

Being in a relationship left them exactly like they were while they were single: Hawaii was still cheery, Switzerland was still grumpy. The two of them seemed more like strangers than anything when in public. According to Hawaii, they learned all types of things about each other when they were alone ("He's got 3 pet goats, and was friends with Mr. Austria when he was little!" was one of the stories she brought back to the dorm); nevertheless, they simply didn't seem compatible, and Guatemala just could not grasp how or why Hawaii was so utterly happy to be dating the frugal Swiss boy.

That wasn't the only relationship amongst their trio that she didn't quite understand. Jamaica was, as far as everyone knew, single. A free spirit. Riding solo. Forever available. She also didn't appear to be crushing on anyone. Yes, some people are particularly good at covering up their feelings when it comes down to romance and such; nonetheless, things tended to come out into the open when girls are roommates for a few months.

The girls had stayed up late discussing things ranging from mortals they had star-crossed crushes on to Hawaii's tips to Guatemala on how to French kiss America whenever the time came. Never in any of those conversations had Jamaica mentioned a crush. When Hawaii drilled her for an answer (after indicating which guy she'd go for if she and Switzerland didn't work out), Jamaica's response was: "Nobody, mon."

And maybe she was telling the truth at the time, or at least thought she was. But Guatemala uncovered something that made her quite sure she wasn't.

Hawaii was off at Switzerland's breakfast table while America was sleeping in. Guatemala was casually working at her fruit salad when Jamaica eventually made her way over, carrying a tray with a simple breakfast of rum and a banana.

"Hey, it looks like the Baltic kids migrated to another table," Guatemala commented, nodding at the table directly across from where she sat. She raised an eyebrow. "That must mean Russia's not far behind." Sure enough, as if on cue, the tall blondish teen sat cheerily beside the cowering, huddled together Baltics, one large hand around a very disgruntled China's wrist. Jamaica's gaze slowly lifted from her tray.

Russia was the type that was very unpopular, yet the most popular person in school. Everyone knew exactly who he was, but nobody hung out with him. Well, of their own accord, at least: the Russian tended to force people into forming a "friendship" with him, specifically Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, and China. Except for his frighteningly tall height, there wasn't really anything intimidating about Russia. He didn't talk much and always wore this friendly smile that made him seem like a pretty nice person. However, rumor had it that he wasn't exactly mentally stable, not to mention the boys in his locker room brought back stories of how he was perfectly capable of picking someone up with one arm.

And now here Jamaica was, gazing at him like he was some beautiful creature that could only exist in fantasies.

It was then that Guatemala recalled a piece of the rant Hawaii had given her back on her first day of school; gosh, that felt like a _lifetime _ago. _"… Stay away from this tall purple-eyed guy named Russia, Jamaica has dibs on him, not that I think you'd want him anyway, he's WOOHOO if you know what I mean," _Hawaii had said. "Jamaica has dibs on him" was the part that particularly stuck out to Guatemala. Maybe Jamaica had given more insight on the topic of crushes before Guatemala came into the picture…

"…So do you likeRussia?" Might as well get right to the point.

There was a brief silence while Jamaica swallowed a bite of banana and leisurely turned to face Guatemala. "Well yeah, he's pretty cool…"

"Have you ever talked to him?" Guatemala questioned, intrigued now.

"Not yet."

"Maybe you should."

Now, Jamaica was the kind of person that would sit back with a pair of sunglasses during a meteor shower. So that even the slightest bit of alarm swept across her face made red flags shoot up in Guatemala's head. "Nnnnot a good idea, mon. I'm kind of socially awkward," Jamaica responded with only a small tad of discomfort in her tone. She put on her usual airheaded smile, convincingly enough for Guatemala to actually believe it wasn't fake. "I haven't harassed my brother in a while… I should catch up on that." And so she grabbed her tray and shuffled over to sit with Cuba and Canada.

Before Guatemala could start to feel lonely or think about trying to sit with Hawaii, an overly cheer Italian took the seat that was usually occupied by America. "Ve, ciao Guatemala! Do you mind if I sit here?"

"You already _are _sitting there," Guatemala chuckled, taking a sip of water. Italy giggled, and waved at his fellow Axis to join him. They both nodded politely at Guatemala, though clearly looked uneasy to intrude on her breakfast.

"You know my fratello Romano, right?"

Guatemala froze. She'd been so content with her relationship with America that she'd nearly forgotten about the grumpy Italian. "Sí, we've met…."

"Well, I've heard him talking about you a few times! He says he knew you when you were younger… Your friend Spain was his babysitter!" Guatemala swallowed back the memory of a teenage Spain attempting to juggle being a fatherly or brotherly figure to Guatemala and Mexico while also taking Romano in every once in a while. "Roma complains about you a lot- he doesn't really like you," Italy continued with a pout, moving his hands animatedly with every word he spoke. A grin quickly leaped back onto his face, though, as he glanced around the room and whispered to Guatemala: "But he thinks you're pretty." In the blink of an eye, his smile was gone again. "He still really hates you, though…"

Great. Because Guatemala _totally _needed more people to deal with.

* * *

**_~Author's Note~_**

_This chapter was kind of all over the place, huh? ^^" I guess I just had a lot of stuff I wanted included, so I threw it all into this one chapter…. By the way. I have NO idea where Switzerland x Hawaii came into play; probably from one of the really crack RPs or joking conversations I had with KiwiFruit07. If that couple isn't a huge reminder that the pairings and events in this story are at least 90% CRACK, nothing is. XD_

_-67OtakuGirl24X3_


	10. Chapter 10

"You should make up with my brother."

Guatemala nearly dropped her fork at her friend's remark. She slowly brought her gaze up to meet Jamaica's, her aura darkening. The subject of Cuba was still a touchy one even though it had been about a month since their friendship shattered.

"Mm, no, I don't think you should." Guatemala now glared mildly to her side in the direction of her other roommate. She'd prefer the Hawaiian not chime in at all, but she had to admit she was glad that she was at least on her side.

"Why aren't you sitting with Switzerland?" Guatemala muttered a little more bitterly than she intended.

Hurt flashed across Hawaii's expression so briefly that Guatemala decided she'd just imagined seeing it. "I don't even know! I went to sit with him, and he just sorta stared at the table and suggested I sit somewhere else!" Hawaii explained with a pout. She shook her head, and a smile fell onto her face. "But anyways, I disagree with you, 'Maica. I don't like Cuba at all," she added cheerfully as if commenting about sunny weather.

"Hey, I'm not too fond of him either," Jamaica indicated, pointing at Hawaii with her banana. "But see, just between us roommates…" She leaned sideways slightly so that her mouth was right up against Guatemala's ear; Guatemala immediately shifted in discomfort at their closeness. "Sometimes, when I get pretty drunk, I _see _things." Nodding like that explained the absolute meaning of life, Jamaica leaned back into her place.

"See things?" Guatemala repeated skeptically.

Jamaica tilted her glass of rum slightly. "Uh huh. I have these _visions."_

"…Visions." Well this just kept getting better and better. _Maybe I should just go back to bed, _Guatemala thought. Hawaii, on the other hand, was grinning knowingly, having already been informed of Jamaica's self-proclaimed gift.

"And usually, in some twisted way," Jamaica glanced around her, then lowered her voice, "they predict the future. Like one time, right before a hangover, I got a vision of me and Cuba being boxed up and sent across the ocean to a rainbow prison. A few days later, we got on a ship to this here Academy."

Guatemala had to admit that that was rather interesting… if she believed it to be true. Which she didn't. She had to try her hardest not to roll her eyes or groan when Jamaica continued speaking. "Yesterday, when I was stumbling back to the dorms from the bar, I had another vision. Long story short, you and Cuba _can't _stay mad at each other."

"Tell me, what was this 'vision'?" Guatemala questioned, her arms crossed lightly and eyebrow raised.

"It'd take too long to explain. Just go to him, and be besties again." Furrowing her eyebrows together, Hawaii started to protest, but Jamaica covered her mouth with her hand and whispered something in her ear. Hawaii's eyes bulged almost out of her head, and she immediately covered a deep gasp with both hands. Jamaica swallowed back a smirk.

There was a moment of silence as Guatemala bit her lip and thought this over. Yes, Cuba was a total jackass, but really, you couldn't blame him: he had a strange little sister and only 1 true friend. He'd been a perfectly decent friend to Guatemala, and what did she do in return? Put so little trust in him that she wouldn't even tell him she was in a relationship. If she'd just taken the risk of telling him she was dating someone she hated, maybe he'd have accepted it or at least shoved it aside instead of their entire friendship falling apart…

America was currently serving a lunch detention; it was now or never.

"You're right, Jamaica. I'm going to go talk to him…" Gulping, Guatemala got to her feet and headed toward Cuba's table. But then, she was struck with an idea, and redirected her course to the buffet table.

All the while, Jamaica was smirking softly at her back. It really wouldn't have taken long to describe the scenario she'd envisioned… She just didn't think it would be in her better judgment to tell Guatemala, who was happily in a relationship with America, that she'd foreseen her on a romantic rendezvous with Cuba.

~.~.~.~.~.~

Guatemala had no idea why her hands were shaking so badly as she shoveled 3 scoops of ice cream into a cone. What if Cuba didn't like vanilla? That's what it _looked _like he tended to eat, but there were several flavors of about that color… She could only clearly recall him eating his ice cream from a bowl; what if he didn't like cones? Now that she thought about it, how many scoops did those bowls usually have in them? What if it was only a couple, and he'd think she's implying he's fat by giving him _three _scoops plus the cone?

Oh, what was the point in panicking over every little thing? She'd already lost Cuba; the worst thing that could come out of screwing this up was that she'd never get him back.

The anxiety came flooding back to Guatemala 10 times harder.

She glanced at the clock, holding the ice cream cone in one hand and a napkin to catch any drips in the other. There were 10 minutes left until the period ended, yet she felt as if she had split seconds to make this work. A voice in her head reminded her that if she'd just trusted Cuba in the first place, she wouldn't _have _to fix anything, and she almost crushed the ice cream cone.

As usual, Cuba sat alone except for Canada at his side and a few citizens a good ways away from them at the table. The lack of noise around them made it easy for Cuba to hear Guatemala approaching. He glanced over his shoulder, and narrowed his eyebrows in a glare.

"…Hola," Guatemala began feebly. Much better at reading the atmosphere than his brother, Canada deemed it a good time to go use the bathroom.

"Where's your _boyfriend." _It wasn't so much a question as it was a demand.

"He has detention," Guatemala responded uncomfortably, shifting her weight and doing her best to avoid Cuba's poisonous stare.

Cuba hummed in disgust and turned away from his not-friend. "How charming."

Sighing, Guatemala heavily sat backwards on the bench next to him so that she faced the back of the room while Cuba faced the front. Eyes closed tightly, she stuck the arm holding the ice cream cone to the side, narrowly avoiding hitting Cuba in the face. "Whatcha got there?" he grumbled, eyeing the frozen treat.

"What's it looked like?" Guatemala murmured, opening her eyes ever-so-slightly but still staring at the ground.

"It looks like a half-assed attempt at an apology."

Guatemala felt like something had whapped her hard in the back of the head. "Really? I thought it looked like an ice cream cone," she managed. Everything seemed to freeze and melt at the same time as Cuba, to Guatemala's utter surprise yet relief, _chuckled _and took the cone out of her hand. She glanced up to see him licking at the drips making their way down the cone.

"Look, Cuba, _lo siento-" _Guatemala's eyes widened as Cuba clamped his free hand over her mouth.

"I don't want some stupid sappy apology, Guatemala. As long as that damn American doesn't rub off on you too much, I think this whole 'friendship' thing could work out."

A huge weight seemed to lift off of Guatemala's shoulders. It still lingered above her head, but at least it was no longer pressing down on her. "Don't worry, I don't plan on becoming _anything _like America."

The slight smile on Cuba's face faded into a serious expression as he gazed down at Guatemala. "That's not exactly what I meant. You can't make him your _only _concern, like it looks like you already have." The fact that there was truth in those words only made them sting worse. "You have to focus on other priorities too."

"…I know…" Guatemala murmured, nodding slowly. "I'll try to make time for my _gal pals _too." She lightly punched Cuba's arm, slightly grinning cockily. Cuba rolled his eyes and fondly gave her a little shove.

"I always did think America was a fag… I swear, you're like one of the guys."

"…I can't really have a comeback for that, 'cause you're pretty masculine yourself."

For the first time in who knew how long, Cuba smiled at Guatemala, and actually laughed. It was such a triumph that Guatemala couldn't help but laugh along with him.

"So are you going to go back to the rejects you call your friends?" Cuba asked, already halfway through the second scoop of ice cream. Guatemala swung herself so she was sitting in the same direction as Cuba.

"Hey, they aren't _so _horrible… But nah, I think I'll just hang with you for the rest of the period." Guatemala's breath caught in her throat. She'd never used the term "hang" like that until she met America… Maybe he _was _starting to rub off on her. Cuba didn't seem to notice, though.

"Fine by me."

There was a moment of awkward silence as Cuba worked away at his ice cream cone. Guatemala felt her chest turn tight. Why hadn't she seen this part coming? After all, what was there to talk about with a guy you'd pretty much betrayed and left as not your friend for a whole month or more? Just before Guatemala could come up with an excuse for having to get up and leave, Cuba took the last bite of his cone, licked his fingers, and turned to look at Guatemala with a slightly quirked eyebrow. "Well if you want to think of me as one of your girl friends, I might as well gossip like one." He glanced up at the doorway for a few seconds, then back to Guatemala. "So Canada-"

"Whoa, wait, _Canada? _Hold on, he's not the type to gossip about," Guatemala interrupted. She suddenly didn't care what Cuba had to say; if he was going to be talking about his best friend behind his back, she didn't want to hear it. Maybe she _shouldn't _have bothered to mend their friendship…

"Calm down, this is _good _stuff. It'll benefit him if you know." Guatemala crossed her arms skeptically, but Cuba continued anyway. "God only knows why, but Canada told me he's got a crush on… my sister." His expression turned notably darker and he instinctively reached for the pocket in which he kept his cigars. "I thought he knew better, but apparently not."

It took a moment for that to register with Guatemala; she actually took a moment to think about whether Cuba had any other sisters. Sweet, quiet little Canada, had a crush on _Jamaica? _"I guess love works in weird ways…" she murmured after a while, eyes wide and blinking in shock.

"She's known him as long as I have. Canada was at my house a lot when we were younger, and I fell asleep a lot, so I guess that left them with plenty of time to bond," Cuba reasoned with a shrug. It was obvious from his tone that he wasn't in any way happy about this relationship of theirs. He drew in a deep breath, shutting his eyes as if it pained him to say this. "Jamaica bothers the hell out of me. But, Canada's still a good guy and he deserves some type of happiness for once. So would you talk to Jamaica for me?"

Guatemala glanced over at the table she'd came from, where Hawaii was styling Jamaica's dreadlocks as the latter played some game on her iPod. She briefly thought about her theory on Jamaica's affection for Russia, but then decided it was worth a shot to see if she would change her mind… "…Sí. I can do that."

* * *

___**~Author's Note~**_

_Now, here's a couple that isn't as cracky as a lot of the other pairings in this. The countries of Jamaica and Canada actually have really good relations…_

_You know it's sad when you enjoy writing about your friend's OC more than your own. Jamaica's just such a fun character to use! XD_

_Anyway, thanks for reading! Please review, and expect an update :)_


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